Puppet On A String
by RadioWrites
Summary: Spectra is back, but the effect she has on kids seems to have increased tenfold. Danny has to figure out what's going on, and wait, what do those new kids have to do with this? (Cross-Posted to AO3)


Michael walked guardedly towards Caper High, his cane going back and forth and making an annoying _tap-tap-tap _sound as it did. He scowled angrily at nothing in particular, wondering how the hell he got himself into this situation. He was a ghost; he was dead. So why the fuck was he going back to high school?

"Oh, Michael! There you are." A sickeningly sweet voice called (from what Michael could tell) a little ways away. _Ah_. Now he remembered. "Spectra." He offhandedly greeted the other ghost. "Remind me again why I'm attending this god-awful place filled with hormones and obligatory work. Because I'm not seeing what could possibly make me want to set foot anywhere near the inside of those doors."

"Well, to be fair, you're not seeing much of anything anyway." She laughed a bit, and he felt the motion of her waving her hand in front of his eyes. He guessed she realized that Michael wasn't very appreciative of her joke considering the scowl on his face, so she continued before he could say anything . "But, since you apparently need the motivation, here's your role in this; you're here to help me get these kids as miserable as possible. And your…_affinity _for emotional manipulation is just the thing I need to get these kids so depressed it'll feed my beauty for the next year!"

Michael sighed apathetically. "Sounds like a lot of work. You know how much energy it's gonna take to manipulate an entire fucking school?" He paused, a thought coming to him. "Does this mean I'm allowed to have some fun?" The last word fell from his mouth in a malicious way, his lip curling into a venomous smile. His hand fell to his jacket pocket, his fingers trailing lightly over the small wooden puppet he kept.

"Of course. Whatever you like. Just don't go too overboard, you need to keep a low profile so Fenton doesn't spot you right off the bat." Her tone sounded victorious, and with good reason Michael supposed. He never liked to miss a chance to play with people, and Spectra knew it. Damn, and Michael thought _he_ was the manipulative one. Oh well. "Well, school is about to start. Make sure you're not late!" And with that, Michael felt Spectra's presence disappear.

Humming thoughtfully, Michael again reached into his pocket and grasped the puppet. He pulled it out and held it near his face so he wouldn't have to speak loudly. "You're needed. Now." Not a few moments later, he felt the familiar presence of his preferred henchman. Henchwoman? He didn't really care. "Phantom Painter, I'll need you to help me around school today. I'd be fine on my own, but having to use this damn cane with its fucking tapping noise would be annoying." Scratching his head in thought, he wondered how this would work. "Whatever you paint becomes real, right?" She tapped his hand twice, their code meaning 'yes' since he couldn't see her signing and she couldn't talk. Honestly, her being mute was the only problem he had with her as a puppet. "So if you painted yourself a human disguise, kind of like a meat suit or something of that matter, would that work? Would that let you hide as a human?" There was a pause, and then he felt three taps on her hand, their code for 'maybe'. "Well? Try it and see." There were a few moments of silence, then the tell-tale sound of her ectoplasmic paint swirling around. He didn't understand how it worked, but apparently the ectoplasm naturally came from her paintbrush and changed color as needed. It would be pretty cool, but considering he was blind, art was kind of a moot point to him. After a few minutes, he felt two taps on his hand. "It worked?" _Tap-Tap._ "Sweet."

She tapped her fingers against his hand again in affirmation, and then he felt her hand around his as she started to lead him forward. Michael smiled happily as he re-adjusted his sunglasses and headphones with his free hand. If he could get such a free-spirited (no pun intended) ghost like the Phantom Painter under his control, this school would be a snap.

Who knows? Maybe even Danny Phantom would make a good puppet.

###

Danny could feel something was off as soon as he walked into school with Sam and Tucker. His feeling was validated when he felt his ghost sense go off. "Already? School hasn't even started yet!" He groaned impatiently. Turing around to try and find the threat before he transformed. But all he noticed was a pair of new kids walking towards them. "Who are they?" He asked, momentarily forgetting about the ghost.

"Don't ask me, I haven't seen 'em before." Tucker shrugged, looking just as confused as Danny felt. "Must be new kids. Wonder where they're from?"

###

As the trio talked amongst themselves, trying to figure out who they were, Michael and Phantom Painter were heading for the front office so they could get their schedules. Michael had found Spectra a little earlier so he could inform her that Phantom Painter would be joining him so Bertrand could quickly add her into the system. Of course, they had run into a few speed bumps with that.

"What's her name?" Bertrand asked, looking up from the computer. "Her real one. I can't put 'Phantom Painter' into the computer." Spectra blinked confusedly before looking at the ghost in question, who was at the moment doodling on some spare paper she found.

"I don't actually know. I don't think anyone does." Spectra hummed and sat on the edge of her desk. "It doesn't help that she can't talk and that barely anyone in the ghost zone knows ASL. Well?" She asked, directing the question at the other female ghost. "Can you write it down or something?"

Phantom Painter looked up from her drawing, slightly startled. No-one had asked for her name in years. She had honestly nearly forgotten it, and would have if she hadn't run into her brother a few months before (and wasn't _that_ a painful experience…) Looking back down at the paper she held, she quickly wrote something down before lifting it and turning it towards the other three in the room. There was silence for a minute before Michael loudly grunts out "Well what the fuck does it say?!"

"Pneuma Penn. I think. She has really terrible handwriting." Bertrand huffed as he went back to typing in information to the computer.

"Hm. Good to know she actually has a name though." Michael stood up from where he'd been sitting and stretched. "Well we should head to the office so we can check in. Good luck with the whole 'depressing the entire student body' thing. C'mon Penn." Pneuma got up as well and grabbed his arm to lead him out the door. "And don't worry Spec, I'll be manipulating emotions worse than the ending of Life is Beautiful."

That had been about ten minutes ago. And, Michael realized, it shouldn't take ten minutes to get to the office in such a small school. "Penn." He felt her tense next to him. "Do you know where we're going?" A pause, and then…_Tap. _"Well shit. Is there anyone nearby we can ask?"…_Tap-Tap-Tap._ "What do you mean maybe? Is there someone nearby?" _Tap-Tap._"Well then walk me over so I can ask!" _Tap-Tap._

###

"Well," Sam cut into the boy's argument of who the kids were, "Here's our chance to ask." Danny and Tucker turned to see the pair of newbies walking to them. The boy was kinda short, barely reaching the girl's shoulder. He was pale, had dark purple (was that allowed?) short hair, and was wearing sunglasses and bright green headphones. She was slightly tanned with dark black hair tied back into a messy ponytail that reached her waist and her clothes seemed to be covered in paint. She seemed to hesitate as they came closer, but didn't stop until they were close enough to talk. "I take it we're here then?" The boy asked irritably, and Sam noticed the girl tap his hand twice. Weird. "Well then. My name's Michael Avery, this is Pneuma Penn. Would you happen to know where the front office is?"

"Down the hall, to the right." Tucker said automatically. "I have a map on my PDA if you want?" He said, holding it towards Michael.

"Show it to her, not me. She's the one who can actually see it. Thanks though." Michael laughed.

"If you're blind, shouldn't you have a cane or something?" Sam asked suspiciously.

"Nah. S'what I have Penn for. Isn't that right?" Pneuma nodded at the three while tapping his hand twice again. "Anyway, I didn't catch your names."

"Oh, sorry." Danny finally spoke up. "I'm Danny Fenton, this is Tucker Foley, and Sam Manson. Nice to meet you."

"You too." Michael smiled, but it looked strained. "This is what you meant when you said 'maybe' isn't it." He whispered to Pneuma.

_Tap-Tap._

Shit.


End file.
